


always

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Childhood Friends, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, noren being children uwu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23280430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Always the same, like it always has beenI will call and make a promise first-Best Friend, NCT DREAM
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104





	always

**Author's Note:**

> for renjun.
> 
> belated happy birthday

Huang Renjun _officially_ sees Lee Jeno for the first time during the latter’s very day of birth.

Of course, Renjun has no living memory of it, he was only an infant back then. Jeno was only born exactly a month after him, so naturally, Renjun didn’t remember any of that moment. He only knows that he did see Jeno for the first time during that particular day because of the photograph held before his face when he was three; Mrs. Lee had graciously pointed out a baby cradled in a glass container and taught him it was baby Jeno, and that Renjun was the other baby being held in a couple’s arm—eyes barely opened, thumb sucked between thin lips, thin mop of healthy black hair on the head. Since then, Renjun declares that the first time he encountered Jeno was on the day he was born was a total fact despite not remembering anything about it.

He remembers this though: he was nodding, and reaching out for the photograph to keep it close to his chest.

* * *

Renjun unconsciously curls his toes, socked feet thudding faintly against the wooden floor of the classroom. His desk was a mess; there was watercolor sprawled, his brushes unused atop each other, and scratch papers crumpled and thrown aside. There's a variety of colored streaks of watercolor painted on his cheeks and on his forehead, even down to his collarbones and his wrists, but the mess doesn't stop him from blowing his Oslo paper dry, smiling down at his new artwork—dimpled cheeks stretching, lips forming a toothless grin across his little face.

"Jeno-yah," he pats the boy next to him, eyes still bright, fingers still dipped in colors, "look at my work."

Despite the weariness in his accent being audible still, his best friend definitely understood what Renjun had said, so the said best friend jumped off from his own chair and walked two steps closer to Renjun, completely disregarding his own chaotic finger-painting work. 

Their teacher had taught them watercolors today. That and finger-painting. While Renjun seems to immerse himself greatly in the flight full of colors and mess, Jeno found himself growing slightly tired of his fingers numbing from being soaked in too much paint. Although the colors did look pretty.

The gasp escapes Jeno's lips unconsciously once he lays his eyes on the drawing Renjun’s little palms hold. A gold creature with frizzy fur, ears pointed and whiskers on the side of its small face. It was Nal, his new kitten at home, his father's gift from his 6th birthday last week.

"Wow, Injun," he cheerily says, eyes crinkling at the burst of joy in his little heart. Jeno could never call Renjun other than by his Korean nickname, his tongue too short to adjust to Chinese syllables. He bounced on his toes out of excitement, "you drew my Nal! You're really good at art."

Renjun feels the lightness in his small chest. His eyes crinkle up in utter happiness, showing his friend a grin to which Jeno returned. They giggle together, paint-colored fingers atop each other. 

“Should I show _mama_ and _baba_?” Renjun stutters out. His finger taps on Jeno’s own as he thinks, the action out of mannerism. Jeno wraps the finger with his own hands. He likes it that Renjun touches him, because Renjun was warm—especially when they sleep on his bed every time his parents allowed them to. 

Jeno hums, “Yes, Junnie! Aunt Huang will keep it for you!”

Later that day, when Renjun and Jeno walk home together to their shared neighborhood hand in hand, Renjun’s finger-painting artwork gets pinned on the corkboard at Jeno’s bedroom door instead.

It’s only two years later that Jeno unpins the artwork, although broodingly. 

Renjun pinches the pout set on Jeno’s face before returning to the boxes of belongings he was attending to, “It’s fine, Jeno-yah! That thing is too old anyway. I could draw you a new one if you like. Would you want that as your birthday present?”

Renjun’s Korean flows much better this time, despite still speaking Mandarin around his parents. Jeno still found it weird though. Yes, Renjun was Chinese but born in Korea, but his first language was Hangul, so why did he still struggle with speaking it? Renjun always had the answer though. “Because we speak Mandarin at home, Jeno-yah. It’s hard, you know, studying two languages at the same time.” Then on, Jeno always called Renjun smart. But Renjun would always differ, because Jeno was still better at solving Math problems.

Currently, Jeno pouts even more, “But this was your first art you gave me.”

They were in the middle of putting away Jeno’s stuff in his bedroom—his parents having decided he transfer to the bigger room as he was growing up to be a big boy—when the latter had found himself seriously mulling over the fact that he had to throw out a few things away to make room for new and bigger ones (his mother’s words). He had been dead set on keeping the finger-painting work of a five-year old Renjun earlier. Not until Renjun comes in and says, with a deep scowl on his mouth that Jeno swears would wrinkle his whole face if he goes on, “Who would still want that?”

Then on, Jeno had been pouting because apparently, _he does_. But Renjun won’t allow it.

“Why do you hate it so much, Injunnie?” Jeno sulks. Renjun got better at his Korean, but Jeno never got better at pronouncing the older boy’s name aside from the nickname. “You made it!”

“It is _old_ , Jeno-yah,” Renjun says as he debates on which toy to put inside the box marked for donations, “and I told you, I can make a new one for your birthday. You like that, right?” 

Of _course_ , Jeno likes it. The small folder keeping all of Renjun’s artworks given to him is literally lying beside Renjun’s knees.

Jeno doesn’t speak, only stares at the old piece of art. Nal was so much bigger now, and so much more golden and her fur is so much frizzier. 

Then, he feels Renjun’s small hands pulling him close as they trudge across the room. The older boy tugs him down, and Jeno joins him in sitting crisscrossed on the carpeted floor of his old room. Jeno blinks at him, and earnestly looks at Renjun. Because he knows Renjun will speak, and he knows that Renjun likes it when he listens.

Renjun holds both of Jeno’s hands and lets it lie between them, “Aunt Lee said to make room for new things, right? We should throw away old things so you can have new things, Jeno-yah!”

The way Jeno’s small eyes blink at him curiously got Renjun to continue, “That means, if we throw my old art, then you can have a new one. And I’m going to give it to you on your birthday! You like that, right?”

Renjun sees the way Jeno’s tiny shoulders slump as he croaks out an ‘okay’.

Just then, Jeno is the first one to get up and return to Renjun’s old post, deciding on which of his toys are to be donated and which are to be kept. Renjun helps him through it one by one. Just how they always do. 

* * *

Renjun was nine when Jeno got the worst flu of his life.

Usually, it was Renjun who easily gets ill. The older boy easily gets colds or even gets rashes on a biting wintery day. It was Renjun who easily gets dehydrated under the sun, who easily gets tired after a day out in the playground. Not Jeno. Not Jeno who was almost naturally playful and athletic, Jeno who enjoyed outdoors, Jeno who can dance in the rain without his parents worrying about a possible cold coming on the next day. 

So when it happens, Renjun cries.

Renjun cries because he hadn’t seen Jeno in _two full days_. Not even in school, not even when he literally lives at the apartment next to where Renjun lives. They didn’t allow to see him yet, because knowing Renjun could get sick quite easily, Jeno was still bed-ridden sick that it was dangerous for him to be outside. Mr. and Mrs. Huang had explained to a sobbing, hiccupping Renjun that Jeno missed him too but didn’t want to infect him, but it wasn’t that much of a help to calm down a Renjun who wants nothing but his best friend to feel okay so that they can see each other again.

Jeno was supposed to be the healthier one between the both of them. So Renjun was so worried as to why he got so sick he couldn’t even see Renjun. And that’s why he had cried. 

Mr. Lee promises him that he would get to see Jeno when the younger boy gets better. 

On the third day, Jeno gets better. Not well, but better.

True to his promise, Mr. Lee currently waits for Renjun as the boy unlaces his shoes by the Lee residence’s door, then takes his hand as he leads the young boy down the hall to Jeno’s room. Mr. Lee lets Renjun knock on the door.

“Yes?” came a voice so croaky Renjun almost deemed it unrecognizable. But he knew it was Jeno’s. It was impossible not to sound like Jeno’s. 

“You have a visitor.” Mr. Lee swings the door slowly. Renjun was greeted with a warm room that looked still the same as it was when they had both decorated it together before just when Jeno moved. At the center of the bed lies the younger boy deep in his covers, face still red from the fever, hair greasy and looking much like how Renjun’s mother would describe a bird’s nest in one’s head. 

“I do?” Jeno says weakly again. He sounded so weak that Renjun could not help but feel bad, like there was something that started crushing his heart. Renjun didn’t want anything but for Jeno to feel better. 

“Yes, baby.” Mr. Lee pushes Renjun inside the room. It was all that it took for the boy’s lips to quiver, until he was crying and sobbing again.

Renjun cries as he runs to Jeno’s side, sitting down next to his best friend’s blanket-covered legs on the bed and reaching out to hold Jeno’s hand that felt too warm than what Renjun could remember. 

“Injunnie!” Jeno’s eyes blow wide, shrieking with his voice still airy and nasal from the cold. Renjun only squeezes his hand harder. The sniffles grow, until the older boy is bawling his eyes out again. His cries and the incoherent mumbling that comes with it resonates around Jeno’s room.

The mere sight of Jeno lying in his bed, face red and bloated from sickness and his hand warm as it weakly held onto Renjun’s, made his little heart clench for his friend. Renjun knew how colds went, he knew how it felt, and knowing that Jeno—healthy, athletic Jeno—is currently under the pain of it all just made it hurt. Because he doesn’t want Jeno to hurt. No, not ever. They didn’t even know how Jeno got sick. It was just one day where Jeno woke up nauseated with a flushed face. So Renjun thinks right now, that Jeno doesn’t deserve all of this. Jeno was very healthy, he always ate his veggies and drank his milk.

Of course when Renjun cries, Jeno cries soon after. At the sight of his best friend crying, Jeno’s eyes immediately water until his lips begin to shake, a sob spilling out of his own scratchy throat.

“W-Why are you crying?!” Renjun says between the hiccups and the sniffles. There is snot running down his nose and the rims of his eyes sting from too much tears being shed, but Renjun doesn’t take notice of that. He only holds Jeno’s small hand, covering it with both of his own, in a poor attempt to warm up the younger even just by a fraction.

Jeno bawls, “You were crying!” 

“Because I missed you, idiot!” Renjun only lets go to wipe the snot with the sleeve of his sweater, then wraps Jeno’s hand again, “So much! I did not see you for days, Lee Jeno!”

The sick boy doesn’t retort after that, just cries as much as Renjun does. The grip on his hand is firm, because Renjun doesn’t want to let go. He wasn’t planning on letting go at all. Renjun never wanted healing powers so much as now. He ceases from sobbing, but the tears never stop from running down his soft, baby fat-clad cheeks, “W-We did so much at school, you know? You missed out on a lot! Miss Kim helped us understand difficult words. Then helped us multiply numbers again. It was really hard to multiply big numbers without you helping me!”

“I am sorry, Injunnie,” Jeno says in a smaller voice. He, too, had stopped crying, but the wrinkles on his eyebrows didn’t straighten themselves, “I promise to get better soon, so that we can do multiplying together again. I missed you too, you know.”

Renjun feels the built up distress and worry of Jeno being sick coming up again, unconsciously. So much that his lips quiver from the incoming cry. But before he could let it out, he took it upon himself to calm down to not hurt his throat. What comes out is a strangled sob, anyway. Renjun bends forward, until his forehead comes in contact with the thick blankets cocooning Jeno, just beside the boy’s torso. He holds the younger’s hand tighter, still wrapped with both his own, closer to his small chest.

“Why did you get sick, Jeno-yah? You never get sick. _I_ get sick!”

Jeno shakes his head, “Aunt Huang told me that even the healthiest boys get a flu once in their lives, Junnie. And they get better fast!” 

Renjun sighs, “They should. You should.”

The day after tomorrow, Jeno does get well. Renjun becomes elated because after days, Jeno really was there again to solve Math with him at class. Suddenly multiplying big numbers was easy.

* * *

“Oh no!”

Eleven-year old Renjun screeches, then turns to glare at the very culprit of his ruined acrylics. 

Lee Jeno’s head is nothing but held down, mop of black hair covering his downcast eyes. It was such a pitiful sight, but Renjun could feel no mercy as his eyes burned with anger. The bubbles boil hot inside the slightly older boy, eyes squinting and back as he tries to regain his patience. 

But his paints—his favorite acrylic paint set that his mother had gifted to him, the one he only used _once_ in the entirety of its existence—had been trampled on and emptied to half. Some colors become mixed with other colors, swirling in the floorboards of Renjun’s room, their containers cracked, the floor soiled with paint. No amount of Jeno and his sorry face could replace the spilled paint. 

“You!” Renjun screeches again. Then with a stressed sigh, his shoulders slump and he just feels nothing but loss and sad frustration. 

“I—” Jeno stutters out. Renjun sees the younger boy’s fingers fiddle with each other nervously, “I’m _so_ sorry, Injunnie. I didn’t know they were on the way and I ran over them _accidentally_ —”

“Still!” Renjun’s voice overpowers Jeno’s apologetic tone, “You should’ve been more careful!”

“I know.” Jeno mumbles. Renjun doesn’t take notice of the way the words shake as they come out of Jeno’s lips. The older boy’s eyebrows continue to scrunch in pure anger. He only scoffs and crosses his arms. 

“What you obviously don’t know is how much I loved this set you just went and ran over it on _accident_! Jeno-yah, these were new and barely used—”

“Then you shouldn’t have let them lie around the floor.” Jeno interjects defensively, voice clear. His fingers now tightly bunched together in fists. The downcast eyes now meet Renjun’s, as if trying to match the burn of anger there, and his eyebrows now scrunched just as much.

Renjun takes this as a blow to his pride and lets his jaw drop for a second, before he snarls, “How is this _my_ fault now? _You_ are the one who carelessly stepped over my set!”

“And _you_ are the one who lets his valuable things lie by the door that when someone comes in they get smashed and then blame people for it!”

“Why are you accusing me—”

“I told you I was sorry!”

“You don’t sound sorry at all!”

“You know what!” Jeno flails his arms, “Whatever! I’ll leave you and your _stupid_ paint!”

Renjun gasps as Jeno marches his way towards Renjun’s bedroom door, and shuts it close. The bang that resonates around the room makes Renjun wince. His breathing became ragged as he took in the heavy atmosphere that lingered, until the twig snaps.

His lip quivers, and he bites onto it. “Fine!” Renjun shouts to no one in particular and jumps into his bed, head buried between his arms as he cries out fat and angry tears from his eyes. 

His sheets get crumpled inside his fists, clutching them like a lifeline. There is a big chunk of guilt in Renjun’s chest, but there is also a big chunk of it that was hurt and offended by Jeno’s words. Renjun wants to go after him and apologize, but he also wants Jeno to be the one to come back and apologize. Renjun had never felt so conflicted in his whole life before, even surpassing that one moment where his homeroom teacher had asked him to choose his favorite color between blue and yellow. 

Renjun wipes his face across the bed sheets, only for another fresh batch of tears to stain it right after. He was hiccupping and chasing for oxygen and despite feeling distressed, he thinks if Jeno was the same as him right now; face blotched and messy with tears and snot. Jeno was the one who cries when he gets frustrated, not Renjun. Because Renjun barely gets angry and frustrated, even more rarely than Jeno. 

The guilt builds up until Renjun is kicking at his sheets from the pent up emotions his little form could only take so little of. He was angry that his acrylic paint set has become nothing but unsalvageable, but he also felt so bad that he had to make Jeno mad. But then, Jeno made _him_ mad first.

 _But it had been an accident, as he said_ , Renjun’s small brain supplies. At the mere thought of it makes him cry more.

His wallowing session goes on for days. 

Renjun had decided that why Jeno was avoiding him was partly his fault, and he could not help but feel embarrassed about it. They had never been seen together at school nor at the playgrounds after that weekend, even their parents caught it at some point. But seeing both children insisting on ignoring each other, they let their messy emotions simmer. It was handled like that, at least on the Huangs’ side.

Renjun and Jeno never knew who had intervened, because they never thought that someone would, but both of their families decided to spend one dinner together. 

It wasn’t new. Their parents had been best friends and a dinner together at least once a month had become almost part of their unspoken routine. So Jeno and Renjun had accepted the fact that they were going to see each other again after days of tension through a dinner with family friends. An event that Renjun usually finds exciting suddenly feels exhausting to think about and brings him down. But Renjun, young and naïve Renjun, had also decided to not let his parents down.

Jeno must have had the same thoughts because they do see each other at the said dinner.

Tonight’s dinner was happening at the Lees’, courtesy of the prior joint dinner held at the Huangs. Renjun holds onto his mother’s hand tighter when it was Jeno who opens the front door for them.

As per tradition, the adults gather in the kitchen to finish cooking the food and the little ones remain in the living room to play until they are called out. For their parents, the tradition stays. But for Renjun and Jeno…

For the first time in his living history, Renjun sits prim and proper on the couch. His little legs still dangle at the edge of it despite being eleven years old, his hands folded in his lap, and his head bowed. Jeno was perched on the carpeted floor a few feet beside the older boy by the coffee table. In his arms was Nal nuzzling into his chest as Jeno caresses his golden, frizzy fur. Renjun could only sneak glances at them, willing his hands to stop twitching at the urge to pet Nal or to touch Jeno.

Renjun gulps, suddenly feeling like crying all over again. He had missed Jeno, more than he did when the latter got sick and he wasn’t able to see him for days. More than he did when he went to visit his relatives in China for half a week last year. 

The older boy had wanted to apologize, but he couldn’t help but feel hurt by Jeno’s words again. He also felt slightly embarrassed by their argument. Although those paints were really his recent favorites, he would trade everything to keep Jeno as well. Renjun bites his shaking lip.

Surprisingly, though, Jeno was the one to scoot closer to Renjun’s dangling legs. Renjun’s eyes blink themselves in disbelief as Jeno puts Nal down to nuzzle her nose against the other’s feet. 

It was sheepish when he spoke, voice small and careful, “Nal missed you.”

Renjun did not cry. But he did feel elated at the mere fact of Jeno talking to him. So he jumps off the couch to join Jeno in sitting criss cross on the carpet and gathers Nal in his small arms. “I missed her too,” he says with a mouthful of golden cat fur.

Jeno smiles at him.

* * *

“Yah, Lee Jeno!”

The mentioned boy whips his head in the direction where Renjun stood, and the latter waves an arm before he makes a dash for his best friend. He grins as he plops down on the steps of the convenience store beside Jeno. The younger boy automatically returns the grin, eyes crinkling to crescents that Renjun thinks he looks like keeping his eyes closed, then hands him his own unopened ice pop, “Yah, Huang Renjun.”

There is pride in Renjun’s chest when Jeno utters out his full name without the difficulty that he had over the years of early childhood. Jeno finally had the tongue to pronounce his name correctly, and Renjun giggled every time he did.

Renjun opens his own share of ice pop, then sucks on it. 

They sit in the steps of the convenience store, side by side, sucking on ice pops as they watch vehicles and rowdy high school students make their way home. They both take turns in talking each other’s ears off, just as usual. There is warmth in both of their hearts, another usual occurrence when they’re together. It’s only when their lively neighborhood turns golden in the coming sunset that both Jeno and Renjun realize the time. It becomes the cue for both boys to halt their stories and clean up after themselves to head home for dinner.

“Congratulations on graduating middle school, Lee Jeno.” Renjun says with a light laugh when they’ve already stopped just in front of the Huangs’ apartment. 

Jeno stops from walking to his own door and turns back to his best friend. Renjun sees his eyes turn into familiar crescents again, “Congratulations to you too, Huang Renjun!”

Renjun doesn’t say anything back but sends him a megawatt smile. He held onto the doorknob, twisting but not pushing it to reveal the inside. Jeno still stands by his own door, hands on his side , waiting for Renjun to get inside first. Just as usual. 

Renjun will surely miss this.

Before the thought transforms himself into a blotchy, crying mess, Renjun doesn’t hesitate to turn back to his best friend. Jeno still waits for him as patiently as he always does, with a small hint of a smile on his visage. Renjun could control the tears but he couldn’t stop himself from running straight to Jeno, holding his best friend’s stiff form around 

“See you later. Don’t forget.”

Despite being surprised by Renjun's rare affectionate demeanor, Jeno returns the hug without hesitation, “How can I forget, Junnie?”

Later that evening, Jeno does see him. He had practically thrown the older’s bedroom door open and thrust a set of pajamas in Renjun’s face. Of course Renjun takes it without much debate, always ready to go along Jeno’s quirks, only to gasp at the sight of a cute Moomin-printed pajama set. Exactly like the one Jeno wore currently.

Renjun scoffs playfully at the ridiculousness of it all, but couldn’t hide his glee at the thought of wearing matching pajamas at a sleepover. Moomin-printed ones at that. 

Now wearing their cute matching pajamas, Jeno helps Renjun in packing his suitcase, albeit with a seemingly growing permanent pout in his face. He folds the older boy’s clothes with a grudge and moves slowly as if debating on continuing the mission or not. Renjun notices this, of course, and he feels nothing but bad about leaving his best friend behind.

Renjun pinches Jeno’s pout. The action was becoming a habit now, from how much Jeno was pouting lately and how much Renjun just hates to see him pout.

“Why do you look so down, Jeno?” Renjun says with a light chuckle. It sounded like a bad cover-up of the sadness in him instead.

Jeno places the last of his shirts into the pile, then puts Renjun’s favorite pillow on top. He knows Renjun would carry his favorite Moomin plushie during the plane ride so they don’t have to pack it inside the suitcase. Finally, he stretches the belt over Renjun’s things. “You make it sound like this is not a big deal.”

Renjun zips up the suitcase. He climbs over his bags to kneel next to where Jeno had moved to so now he’s seated on the older boy’s bed with slumped shoulders. He faces Jeno’s side profile. The younger boy had his arms crossed over his chest loosely, adamantly avoiding Renjun’s eyes. But Renjun persists, he stares and stares until Jeno gives up sulking.

Jeno turns to his best friend with a heavy sigh. Renjun takes his hand instead. “I’m coming back, Jeno. It’s just a few years.”

“You go to China for a few _days_ , Jun, not for a few years. What am I going to do without you here? Must you really go tomorrow already? Right after we finished middle school?”

Renjun’s heart sinks when he sees the weariness in Jeno’s eyes. And he wants to stay too, he really does. Only if he could do something about it.

Just two months ago, Renjun’s father landed a great job opportunity based in China. It was good news, really. And Renjun never really felt the weight of it until they’ve discussed the thing one night over dinner, the thing where they’ll have to move out of the country. For his father, it meant taking the job. For his mother, it meant being able to look after Renjun’s grandparents. For Renjun, it meant having to leave Jeno behind, being miles away from each other. 

The thought of Jeno being so far rather than being a door away from him sends a very uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. And he might not know what’s gotten into his tummy to act so differently, but he did know that he’ll miss Jeno a _lot_. He knew that, and it made him almost beg his parents for him to stay. At least him, and maybe let Uncle and Aunt Lee look after him.

But Renjun had begun thinking about it and realized that his parents also have much to sacrifice here like himself when they leave. So Renjun tries to understand, until he does understand, and eventually agrees on the plan albeit half-heartedly. 

His parents know of his uncertainty, of course. So they decided for a compromise. _Just for a few years_ , they said, _then you can go back here and visit anytime_. They’ve discussed that Renjun stays in Jilin until his high school graduation.

He leaves tomorrow. For now, Renjun reaches out to hold Jeno’s palm between both of his own and relishes in the warmth, “I will be back, Jeno.”

Jeno punches his shoulder playfully, “You better!”

With that, Renjun lies down on his bed, pulling Jeno with him. They fall on a tangled mess on the bed, their laughs mingling together like a song. Renjun faces Jeno, their hands still connected in between the space of their bodies. Jeno smiles, and squeezes his hand, “You have to tell me when you meet new friends there, Junnie.”

Renjun giggles, “And you’ll have to tell Jaemin and Donghyuck that I also miss them everyday. It would suck to not spend high school with them.”

Jeno laughs. Automatically, they both gravitate around each other, bodies moving closer to each other in a choreographed routine.

“I will.”

“And also remember, Lee Jeno. That I will miss you everyday, and that I will always be thinking about you as if we’re still together.”

“Together,” Jeno mutters, “together, Junnie. Always.”

Renjun smiles, not even fighting the drowsiness that tries to win him over, “Always, Lee Jeno.”

And they were both young, still at age fourteen, just got out of middle school, never even started high school, might not even know what they’re saying—promising—to each other. But Renjun and Jeno have the wonder and the will to keep their friendship strong, both in words and in action, so they believe that it is always possible for Renjun and Jeno to stay like that: Renjun and Jeno. 

China was miles away, and Jeno will be taken away from him, Renjun knows. And he also knows that they’ll have to make adjustments. And he also knows that he will be dealing with so much longing to be with Jeno when he arrives in China. And he also knows that Jeno will wait for him to come back. Because Jeno always waits for Renjun diligently, like a puppy; waits for him to get ready for school so that they could walk together, waits for him to finish his seatwork so that they could hand it to their teacher together, waits for him to tie his shoelaces when they get undone, waits for him at the end of the slide at the playground, waits for him to get inside of his home before he gets into his own.

Jeno had always waited, and Renjun just knows that Jeno will surely wait for his return.

“I will miss Nal,” is what Renjun mumbles before they both doze off to dreamland, hands interlaced, breathing even and paced. All plans of watching a movie while binging on unhealthy snacks and pillow fighting gets thrown off the window as they sleep soundly beside each other. Together. 

* * *

The waiting doesn’t wear Jeno out. That’s what the younger boy had told Renjun. And Renjun just knows.

They contact each other regularly: send each other everyday texts, reminding the other to always take care, promising that they’ll see each other soon, or even just memes that remind them of each other. They take turns in calling each other almost every week without fail, and they even get to introduce their newfound friends to each other. Some days it feels like Jeno was just _there_ , as if Renjun never left. Some days Jeno feels so far away that Renjun could not help it but shed a tear or two.

But eventually, they find their pace in their new dynamic. Even though the adjustments become too much that Renjun feels like they’re stretched and stretched until they’re bound to break, they still find themselves back to each other, like stretched rubber bouncing back as it fails to break. 

Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it’s not. There are moments when Renjun doesn’t get to hear from Jeno for days and Jeno doesn’t get a word from Renjun. There are times where Renjun finds himself missing Jeno but couldn’t have the perfect timing to contact the younger boy, and the other way around. There are moments that they get too stressed with their own individual lives that they forget they have each other to rely on. But just as always, Renjun and Jeno would find their way back. Again, like rubber.

Sometimes, Renjun finds it amusing. Even when miles away from each other there is just no way that he and his best friend could escape each other. Technically, they couldn’t because of the close-knit relationship their parents have started way back before their friendship started. Others view it as the universe being on their side. But Renjun believes that they’re just inseparable as they are. 

In between the long distance and the mishaps of growing up, Renjun sticks to his promise; sticks with Jeno. What makes it more elating is that Jeno does the same.

They keep each other updated about their lives. Renjun tells Jeno when he started to compete for art competitions in his high school, Jeno tells Renjun that he’d been accepted into a position in his own high school’s track team. When they’ve got more time, they’d settle on video calls and watch the night sky together, argue on which constellation is which. It gave them a sense of solace, knowing that they’re still looking up at the same moon. 

All in all, Renjun and Jeno stay as Renjun and Jeno. No amount of vast oceans could change that, Renjun thinks. He might not know this, but Jeno also thinks so too.

* * *

Jeno bounces on his toes, his phone clutched tightly on his right hand while the other becomes busy in pulling the loose threads of his jacket. 

There is a loud bustle everywhere around him. There are people rushing in and out that it makes Jeno dizzy if he continues to look at them. He looks around for a nearby bench to take a seat instead, hoping that his fidgeting would end by the moment his legs have calmed down from shaking. When he spots one, Jeno sighs in relief and takes it.

The effort proves to be futile because the fidgeting never stops. 

His leg bounces this time as he bites his lips constantly to refrain himself from moving too much. If this was anxiety or just pure excitement, Jeno doesn’t know. He doesn’t have the luxury of time to mull about it. So he runs a hand through his hair for what seemed like the twelfth time within the span of thirty minutes, willing himself to just calm the fuck down and get his shit together. 

Jeno lays his phone beside him as he stares at it, lock screen lit up to show the time. He stares at it, waiting for every minute it changes numbers, until it changes to the numbers Jeno had been waiting to see. With one last deep sigh, Jeno composes himself and walks back to the arrival area. He tries to keep himself look impossibly calm and composed. If he does look like it Jeno doesn’t want to know.

By now, Renjun should be done with customs.

Years later and the mere thought of seeing the boy again after four years is still making his heart stutter like crazy. Oh well, anything for Renjun.

Jeno doubts that the time of waiting stops here when Renjun returns. He would still wait for the other. Just now that he’s going to be here again makes it more bearable than it had been in the last four years. 

Renjun was finally returning. Four years after, a high school graduation after, barely a quarter of Jeno’s life after, Renjun was coming back. For real, this time. Standing at the airport to meet his best friend again, Jeno still finds himself struggling to process the happenings. Only days ago, when Renjun had announced his return to attend college in Seoul over a phone call under the stars, Jeno had just finished unpacking his things to his new dorm. It had been a wild day for him, became even wilder at the news of his best friend coming back for good.

Their promise of always remains lingering in Jeno’s hand, right in the palm which Renjun had held with both of his hands four years ago. 

And he missed his best friend, greatly. He was so pumped for Renjun coming back that he didn’t hesitate to offer to pick him up at the airport. Which he clearly doesn’t regret, even though all these nerves get him slightly uncomfortable.

How much have Renjun changed? Jeno had seen much of their frequent video calls and photo-sharing, but Jeno wanted to see how much prettier Renjun had become personally. He wanted to see the sparkles in Renjun’s eyes up close. He wanted to thumb at the mole on the back of his right hand just as he always did before. 

Four years might not sound like much, but they had been apart in the stage of their lives where so much change happens. And although Jeno knows that he’ll still love Renjun the same no matter what changed occurred, he couldn’t help but feel curious and worried at the same time. 

Jeno scolds himself from biting his lips too much, and resorts to stuffing his hands inside the pockets of the jacket he wore as a sense of distraction. He blinks off the lights of the arrival area as they appeared brighter than they used to in his sight. 

Then his phone rings. The familiar ringtone makes him wince at the slightest, fishing out the device out of his pocket and answers it without fail knowing that it was Renjun.

“Hey!” Jeno tried to sound chirpy, but it sounds a like squeak so he clears his throat, “Where are you?”

_“Hi.”_

With such a simple greeting coming out of Renjun’s soft voice, Jeno’s heart melts and melts until it’s left gooey and disgusting, pooling at Renjun’s feet.

_“I’m here, Lee Jeno.”_

Instantly, Jeno weeps his sight among the crowd that exit the gates of the arrival area, trying to spot a familiar face. His grip on his phone tightens, presses it impossibly closer to his ear, “Where, Junnie?”

_“Here, Jeno-yah.”_

With one last whip of his head, Jeno finally sees him. 

Renjun, a few feet away from him, stands with his luggage beside him, still glowing as ever. From this distance, Jeno finds out that he had grown taller, although not quite as tall as him, but definitely a _lot_ taller than when he’d last seen him. From this distance, he could make out the smile stretched out in Renjun’s much fuller lips, even the way his eyes became rimmed with unshed tears. From this distance, he could see how much Renjun had changed being aged eighteen and how much he hadn’t changed at all being aged eighteen. From this distance, Jeno is still enamored.

Jeno had expected an armful of Renjun upon his arrival. What he did _not_ expect was an armful of Renjun, with their lips locking perfectly in place all in a matter of seconds. They fit perfectly as if like long lost puzzle pieces, as if it was carefully fitted and Renjun didn’t just literally run to Jeno to kiss him. Jeno never wanted it to end.

But of course it does. 

Renjun is the one to abruptly pull away, arms around Jeno’s neck, his waist wrapped in Jeno’s own. 

“I—” Renjun stammers, eyes shaking in panic, “I’m sorry I don’t know why I did that—”

“Renjun.” Jeno interjects his rambling. The older boy instantly clamps his mouth shut, eyes tearing off from Jeno’s. He opts to hold Renjun by his chin, gently shifting his head to let their eyes meet again despite the stubbornness in Renjun.

This is the time when Jeno was able to take a proper look on Renjun. His hair had been dyed to a faint blonde hue, this Jeno knew before, but this time he could see the way the natural black roots showed. Renjun’s eyelashes now grew longer, able to catch the tears that never touched his cheeks from his eyes to which Jeno wipes. The slope on his nose now much more prominent, his cheekbones and jawline too, and his baby fat all gone. The doe eyes are still the same, his lips much fuller, his cupid’s bow sleeker. If Renjun before was cute and pretty, now he was definitely beautiful.

But he was still the same, he was still everything Jeno could ever ask for.

“Renjun, look at me,” Jeno coaxes him softly, too afraid that he might lose Renjun’s eyes in him, “Please, look at me.”

With this, Renjun meets his eyes again. And it’s like Jeno’s breath is knocked out of his lungs. So he does what his heart tells him to do, what his heart wanted to do for so long, and pulls his best friend impossibly closer until there is no distance between their mouths.

This was it. The continuation of their together.

It was always Renjun and Jeno, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> if u havent noticed, this was roughly edited lmao i wrote this for last year's renjun day but plans were altered so this was out just now hehe
> 
> comment and kudos are appreciated, as always!!!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/reonjeolmis)


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